December 19th, mid-afternoon
Cullen slumped down into the cushions of the couch. A small spark of pain shot up his spine from his lower back, causing him to conceal a low groan and a grimace. Stretching out his legs, he leaned his head back to rest on the plush cushions and closed his eyes, determined to relax for a few minutes.
The drive up from Edgehall to the manor house at Haven felt like it took forever. The pain in his back was not terrible, but spending time on the ice was tiring and he was wrestling with a headache caused, he believed, by hitting his head on the ice. Everyone else was busy and bustling around in the other rooms. As soon as they arrived, Ineria announced she'd start dinner and everyone was to stay. Dante, Rowan, and Matilda all disappeared up to their rooms out of the way, while Nevena's sisters and their partners all piled into the kitchen with Ineria and Josef.
Without drawing attention to himself, in the chaos Cullen slipped away from the group to find a quiet place to relax for ten or fifteen minutes. He needed it. The energy of the market had taken a lot out of him and he simply needed some peace to recharge before involving himself with dinner and further interaction with Nevena's family. The retriever, Beau, accompanied him, and now sat curled up on the floor by Cullen's feet. A welcome companion.
He also needed the time to clear his head. Even though the drive back to Haven was not awkward in the slightest, Cullen felt certain that there was unspoken tension growing between himself and Nevena. He had almost kissed her and knew he should not have. Should not have even been tempted to. Even if their arrangement allowed for it, there were specific circumstances under which intimate exchanges were allowed When he unlaced her boots at the ice rink there had been none of her sisters around, neither of her parents - it was an impulse. One he almost followed. He wondered what would have happened if his focus on her had not been shattered.
Even though he had been able to resist temptation there was feeling of conflict roiling around in his chest. He was becoming too familiar with her, too friendly and comfortable. The lines between their professional relationship and the genuine and growing friendship he felt forming between them were becoming blurred. He was beginning to care for her more and more. His heart was starting to take over his head. It did not help his confusion remembering that she seemed to want to reciprocate. That she leaned towards him with as much intent as he had.
Maybe it wasn't just him who was beginning to feel conflicted. Maybe she could see the waters growing muddied too. Maybe she didn't care. Maybe she did, and was too polite to say anything. Feelings weren't meant to be involved in these situations. In the past, he had managed to maintain a professional distance from his clients and, in several cases, was able to stay friends with them. Of course, none of those arrangements were for more than a day. And none of those women were Nevena Trevelyan.
Cullen rubbed his eyes and groaned quietly.
There was something about her he could not quite put his finger on that drew him towards her. The day they met in Red Jenny's he felt an instant spark, even though she was a nervous and fidgety greyhound at first. She was honest, he liked that about her. There was no pretence; the person she presented was the person she was. She was nervous and jumpy, but she was also warm, and bright, and he got the sense that she was a good person. And genuinely good people were rare, especially when they endured years of torment at the hands of their family... But then, maybe that was what made her a good person - having experienced the negativity most of her life she chose not to let it harden her, rather it made her more sympathetic.
He wasn't sure. If Cullen was totally honest with himself, he wasn't sure about much of anything right at that moment. He enjoyed her company, of that he was certain. They got on, and he found her attractive both in looks and personality - another two things he was certain of. Beyond that it was all a mystery. Whether the feelings and impulses he was experiencing were genuine or brought about because of the situation, he didn't know. And whether what he was beginning to experience was mirrored in Nevena was also a mystery.
He hated mysteries.
The logical thing to do was to discuss it. He wondered if he should apologize for the almost-kiss at the ice rink and if doing so might clear the air. But then, that could open up a whole new can of issues. What if she didn't think he was trying to kiss her? Could she be that oblivious? If she wasn't, and he apologised, would she be outraged or confused? Would she think he regretted trying to kiss her? Or would she think he regretted not kissing her? The kiss hadn't happened, and Cullen didn't think he would have regretted it if it had… but now he was starting to regret thinking about it over and over in his mind. Maybe they just needed to reiterate the ground rules of this working relationship. He didn't know, and he was sick of ruminating about it.
"There you are." Cullen cracked an eye open to the sound of Nevena's voice and one of the floor boards creaking. She was wrapping a bright blue ice pack in a dish towel. Beau chuffed and his tail wagged, thumping on the floor. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Cullen shifted on the couch to make room. Nevena limped when she walked and flopped down beside him. She curled her right leg up and applied the cold compress to her ankle. "Just needed a few minutes to myself."
"Sorry for interrupting. Do you want me to leave?"
"No," Cullen sighed and smiled wearily. "Stay. You're not bothering me."
She smiled, pleased. "Glad I'm not a bother." Cullen watched her adjust the ice pack on her ankle, a little grimace causing a crease to appear between her brows. "Ineria put the kettle on down stairs if you want tea or coffee."
"Maybe later." He ran a hand through his hair and leaned his head back on the cushions again. He and Nevena sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. The silence let Cullen's mind empty and despite his earlier thoughts about his and Nevena's working relationship, he felt more at ease with her there. Being alone in Ineria's house - unfortunately, Beau did not count - he was concerned about one of Nevena's sisters or her parents ambushing him. At least with Nevena there, she could act as a buffer. "How's your ankle?" he asked after a while, turning his head to the side.
"Sore," Nevena shrugged a shoulder and gave an amused smile. "But I'll soldier through it."
"Want me to have a look?" Cullen straightened up a little on the sofa now he felt more recharged. Nevena quirked a brow at him. "Part of my job is sports therapy, I know something about sport injuries."
"It's not bad," Nevena said. "I don't want to cause an imposition."
"Nevena." Cullen levelled her with a look. "I'm offering. If it was an imposition I wouldn't have offered. Now give me your foot."
After a moment's pause she began to shift in her seat. She leaned back against the arm of the sofa and stretched her right leg out, placing her foot gingerly in Cullen's hands. "Sorry if my feet are sweaty."
"Believe me," Cullen side-eyed her, "sweaty feet are part of the job." He pulled the hem of her sock down until it was around her heel and gently started to work is thumbs around her ankle applying small amounts of pressure. Her skin was slightly red around the joint, and there was a tiny amount of swelling. "Can you wriggle your toes for me?" She did. "And you feel this?" He ran his forefinger along the underside of her foot. She jerked, almost kicking him. "I'll take that as a yes." A smirk curled his lips.
"I'm ticklish."
Cullen lifted both brows and smiled broadly at her. "Really?"
"I don't like that look," Nevena remarked. "Stop making that face."
Chuckling, Cullen returned his attention to her foot and continued to move his thumbs around her ankle and the lower part of her leg. Every time he noticed Nevena wince or her foot jerked in response to where he was touching, he lessened the pressure, not wanting to cause more pain or further damage.
"Well, the good news is your ankle is not broken," he declared. Nevena pretended to wipe sweat from her brow in mock relief. "You have a mild sprain." He reached for the ice pack and carefully placed it over her ankle, holding it down on the affected area. "You're going to need to keep your weight off it for a day or so. And remember RICES."
"RICES?"
"Rest, ice, compression, elevation, and support." Cullen explained, "best way to deal with a sprain."
"Are you going to wait on me hand and foot, then?" she teased, perching her head on a fist and her elbow on the couch arm.
Cullen arched a brow, "Play your cards right."
Nevena chuckled and again they fell into relaxed silence. Cullen hoped his expression remained still, even as he berated himself for his words. He was flirting with her, and needed to stop. That was one thing only making their relationship more complex and messy than it needed to be. He should never have started flirting in the first place, but he did it in the hopes it would help her relax around her family. He never intended for the flirtation to become real. Even now, looking after her foot and making sure it wasn't seriously injured, that wasn't just a professional courtesy. He could have told her simply to get it checked out at hospital if it got worse or hurt. He didn't need to check it over himself. But he did, and he had. All in the effort to be closer and in his eagerness to enjoy her company.
He was getting in over his head. He needed to back off.
"You're grinding your teeth." Nevena snapped him from his thoughts and he blinked back into the room.
"Sorry," he smiled briefly. "Thinking."
"About?"
You. Us. This situation. He caught himself before he said the words. The room was so relaxed and calm, he didn't want her to leave or for things to become awkward. "About why you stopped skating. What was the reason?"
"Life," Nevena inhaled deeply. "I just couldn't find time with work and doing a degree on the side. Something needed to be sacrificed."
"I see..." Cullen slowly nodded. "Life include your ex he asked, the question almost falling from his mouth without so much as a thought. His eyes widened, and he felt Nevena's leg go tense under his hand where he held the ice pack. Her whole body was still and Cullen did not dare to even breathe. He wanted the ability to reverse time and take back the question, but now it was there, hanging in the air like a curse. He hated himself in that moment. Hated how his brain betrayed him and his mouth gave the words air.
"Who have you been talking to?" Nevena jerked her foot back and pulled her sock back on. There was a coldness and anger to her voice Cullen had never heard before. "Why would you ask that?" She got to her feet and gingerly placed her right foot on the ground.
"Don't put your weigh-"
"Answer the question."
Cullen leaned forward on the couch. He examined her face, delicate features drawn into an expression of quietly simmering rage. He saw shame in her face too, a glimpse of fear and a hint of disappointment, as if he had broken some vow of trust.
"Arienne," Cullen huffed. "She spoke to me at the ice rink. She told me you quit because of your ex."
"She had no right to say anything!" Nevena snapped, her voice rising a little. "And you... had no right to ask her questions about me. About my personal life. Have you had little meetings with my other sisters too? Heard all the great things about Rick, and how I'm a terrible person for breaking up with him?"
"No!" Cullen got to his feet, hands out in a placating manner. "It wasn't like that. It isn't like that." Nevena backed up when he stepped towards her, so he stopped moving. Her mouth was a thin line and there was colour rising in her cheeks. Was she afraid of him? That thought alone chilled him to the core. "Arienne approached me. She told me. I may have asked for more information but-"
"Why?" demanded Nevena, lifting her chin. "Why would you ask for more information from her and not ask me, personally?"
"Because you're so cagey about it," Cullen replied, fighting to control his tone. He did not want to make this disagreement worse by losing his temper. "You barely talk about him, and when you do it's like you think doing so is going to bring him to you, or something! I was just worried about you. There was nothing malicious about it."
"It's none of your business," Nevena snarled. "My relationship with Rick is a really sore subject. And it's nothing to do with you!"
Cullen bristled angrily, "I am trying to understand-"
"There's nothing to understand - at least not from Arienne or any of my other sister's for that matter!"
"Nevena-"
"If you cared, at all, you wouldn't go to them for information about me. Personal information."
"I do care," Cullen replied without thinking. Perhaps if the situation was different and tempers weren't so frayed it would have had more impact on them both, but the words went unheard.
"You obviously don't," Nevena swept a hand through her hair. "I don't talk about it because it's a difficult topic for me. Arienne, Clotilde, Ineria, even my parents - they didn't want to know anything about what happened beyond what they decided when I told them I broke up with him. How dare you ask them or even pry for such personal information!"
"It just came up." Cullen turned in a circle, pushing his hands through his hair. How had the nice, quiet, relaxed atmosphere turned to this so suddenly. Anger pulsed through his veins and he grit his teeth together. "I wish you would be more forthcoming. That you would trust me. I would rather have heard it from you."
"You could have asked me," Nevena retorted. "It's my history - and I don't appreciate you going to other people to learn about me. Especially when they picked and chose what facts to believe." Her chest heaved when she paused. Cullen could see her chin trembling. "I will give you all the information in my own time. When I'm ready. Your opinion of me is only going to be worse if you go to other people."
"That's not..." Cullen trailed when he noticed Nevena turning and hobbling towards the door. "Where are you going?"
"I need some air." She stated and left, closing the door with a sharp 'click' behind her.
Cullen stared at the space she previously occupied for a few moments before growling to himself and rubbing his face in the palms of his hands. He began to pace back and forth along the floor, the pain his back now nothing compared to the grip around his chest. There was an ache there that wasn't there before, and it pulsed like a heartbeat, as if spreading venom around his body. He had experienced fights with other women before. Women he was actually in relationships with and they never had this effect on him. So why now? Why did having a fight with Nevena make him wrestle with the desire to run out the door and follow her?
Had he really done something so heinous? It was just a casual conversation between himself and Arienne... He thought Nevena was perhaps blowing it out of proportion but then... as the adrenaline began to subside and rational thought returned, he wondered how he would feel if the shoe was on the other foot. If she asked his friends about his personal life, his history to learn more about him. Would he appreciate it? Would he be happy about it?
The answer was no. He would be worried about how their accounts of his past, his life, and the person he was would tarnish the way she viewed him. It was the same situation. Nevena's sisters were critical of her, and though Arienne's comments were all to Nevena's defence, she did not know that. For all Nevena knew, they might have discussed what a terrible person she was for leaving someone willing to commit to her. That wasn't the case of course, but Nevena didn't know that.
Sighing, Cullen leaned his head back and dropped his shoulders. He would apologize. Not right now... he would give her some time to cool down. Time he needed as well. Perhaps when they returned to the cabin there would be a good opportunity. Just the two of them. They could kiss and make up - without the kiss part.
The same floorboard Nevena caused to squeak by stepping on it made the same noise, alerting Cullen to someone approaching. The door opened and he stared, heart in his throat, hoping it was Nevena and he could apologize sooner. When Nevan Trevelyan stuck his head around the door, Cullen hoped the disappointment he felt was wholly obvious.
"Nevena not with you?" asked Nevan briskly. Clearly Cullen's demeanour was not obvious to him.
"No," Cullen said. "She's gone to get some air." He flopped onto the couch, exhaling deeply as he leaned his head back and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He heard the door click shut and assumed Nevan left.
"Good." Cullen's head shot up when he realised Nevan was still in the room and he was approaching to sit in an arm chair. "I want to speak to you."
"Why?" snapped Cullen. Being aggressive with Nevena's father was likely not the best way to talk to him, but at that moment in time Cullen did not care. He was already angry, and given their initial introduction where Nevan accused him of being there only for the money, Nevan Trevelyan's feelings were the least of Cullen's concerns.
"You don't like me," Nevan said matter-of-factly.
Cullen shrugged. "To be honest, you didn't make the best first impression."
Nevan laughed, "No. I know." He rubbed his chin. "I should apologize for that."
"But you won't."
"But I won't," Nevan nodded very slowly. "What do you do? Uh, Cullen wasn't it?"
"Rutherford. Yes," Cullen replied. He wasn't sure if Nevan was just forgetful or to be insulted that he needed to check what his name was. "I work in sports and rehabilitation therapy-"
Nevan grunted, "New age medicinal nonsense."
Cullen clenched a hand into a fist in his lap, focusing on the sensation of his nails pressing into the palm of his hand. "I work with veterans who have lost limbs or suffered debilitating injuries in the line of duty, helping them to relearn how to walk, and come to terms with what they experienced," he explained sharply. "If that strikes you as new age nonsense, then so be it. Thousands of people use the service and benefit from it. Lives improve because these often forgotten victims have somewhere to go, to talk about their trauma and move on from it. They have others they can share their stories with. Other survivors, other victims. It's fulfilling work – not that I expect you to understand that.."
"You do anything beforehand? Anything with a real skill?" Nevan asked, looking bored. Cullen bit down on his tongue – hard. He fought the urge to shout at Nevan Trevelyan that his job did require skill. That his job was the most important thing in his life. He fought with every ounce of willpower and was forced to let Nevan's flippant comment slide.
"I was in the Army," Cullen said, stiffly. There was a brief shine of interest and almost respect in Nevan's face. "For ten years."
"What happened?"
"I retired."
"Why?"
"Reasons." Cullen held Nevan's gaze until the older man looked away. Cullen was not about to budge. No one in Nevena's family needed to know all his history and the reason for Nevan's interrogation was clearly more than the typical 'doting father' act.
"Ever been married?"
"No."
"Children?"
"No."
"Not even some brat from a one night stand that you pay money to every month?"
"Nice to know you have such a high opinion of someone you don't even know," Cullen bit out. He was done being nice and polite. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I've never been married, never divorced, have fathered no children, and all my breakups have been relatively mess free," he sighed. "Are you finished with the third degree? Have I passed your test?"
Nevan steepled his fingers. For an instant there was tense quiet, the two men weighing the other up with silent, hard stares. Nevan brushed his thumb and forefinger over his moustache, "What are your intentions towards Nevena?"
Cullen tilted a brow, "My intentions?"
"Do you plan on marrying her?"
"I don't know?" Cullen squinted across the room at Nevan, uncertain what the angle of his question was or if he was being serious. Who asked that kind of a question after their daughter had only been dating someone for six months? Cullen worried perhaps Nevan was hazing him, that somehow he had found out the relationship was a sham and this was his attempt to trip Cullen up. "For now, we're enjoying each other's company."
"Didn't sound like you were enjoying each other's company when you were arguing just a moment ago."
"That was a private conversation," hissed Cullen.
"I'll be honest with you," Nevan said, waving his hand dismissively at Cullen's remark. "I don't like you. But that's par for the course. I've never liked any of the men my daughters brought home and I'm still not fond of the men they married. The only one I liked was Richard and that was because I knew his father. I want to find out what kind of man my daughter has replaced him with."
"With... no respect meant at all," Cullen shifted, "Richard, Rick, whatever, sounds like a nasty piece of work. I'm almost certain anyone would be better for her than him. Whatever you might believe of him. Or me."
Nevan narrowed his eyes. He got to his feet and Cullen heard a few of his joints pop on the way up. Despite his age, he looked fit and spry but time was definitely beginning to catch up to him. Nevan went to the window, he tucked his hands behind his back and stared out over the grounds of Haven. Cullen remained sitting. He scratched the back of his neck. Everything in his upbringing was telling him to show this man the respect he was clearly used to and expected. Cullen was being stubborn and was wrestling with his mother's voice in his mind telling him off. Nevan was showing him no respect, so why shouldn't he return the gesture.
"Nevena's very precious to me," Nevan declared after minutes of lengthy silence. "She's the only one of my daughters to ever disobey me."
"Imagine that," Cullen winced at himself. Even if he didn't like Nevan there was no reason for him to be snippy and childish.
"She's never been an easy girl. Even as a child she was troublesome and difficult. She always did what she wanted..." Nevan's voice softened. "She has a lot of her mother in her, though she doesn't realise it."
Cullen kept his mouth closed. He didn't see the resemblance between Nevena and Katrin at all, but he had not spent much time with Katrin so perhaps Nevan saw something he had yet to witness. Like warmth, affection, or even a personality.
"We have money, you know?" Nevan clicked his tongue. "What am I saying? Of course you know. Why else would you have courted her?"
"Nevena mentioned it when we got here. Shortly before you arrived, actually," Cullen said. "And I didn't know before she told me. I 'courted' your daughter because of everything she has to offer as a person – which is a lot. Her kindness, her warmth, her affection and honesty, those are some of the reasons I courted her. That I care for her. I make my own money, I don't need any one else's. Nor would I ask for it."
"She's the only one never to ask me for a handout," Nevan's tone had a hint of pride. "Always been determined to make it on her own. Even that silly apartment of hers. She could have had a luxury penthouse if she asked. But she wanted to pay her own way."
"Respecting the value of money is never a bad thing." Slowly Cullen turned on the sofa to face Nevan's back where he continued to stand facing out of the window. He was still trying to find Nevan's angle but for the life of him could not figure it out. Was this some over-protective parent speech? Or was this a talk he gave to all the partners of his daughters? Or was he simply trying to find some kind of common ground? "My parents instilled it in me."
"You look after her, do you?" Nevan turned to him. "Do you live together?"
"No," Cullen shook his head once. "And Nevena is strong enough to look after herself. She doesn't need me to take care of her."
"Of course she does." Nevan's attitude turned, the warmth in his voice into frustration. "She's simply stubborn. That she refuses to settle down. Why she insists on working..."
"Maybe she enjoys it?" suggested Cullen, rising to his feet. "She doesn't strike me as the kind of person who would be happy sitting at home and living a life of luxury. She's different and knows her own mind. That's something you should admire about her, not criticize."
"Enjoys it?" Nevan scoffed. "Long hours, noisy brats, lousy pay, no health benefits - not even dental. She should have settled down with Richard. Everything would be fine then."
Cullen rolled his eyes. "Y'know, Nevena's right. If I want to learn anything about this ex of hers, I need to speak to her for the truth. You and everyone else seem to hold him on some impossible pedestal."
"You never met him, did you?"
"No, and given some of the things I've heard, I'm glad. I would have dragged Nevena out of that relationship whether you liked it or not."
"I beg your pardon?" Nevan's nostril's flared.
"Is it true you set them up?" asked Cullen, crossing his arms. "Is it true you kept insisting she go out with him? Even though she told you she didn't like him?" His temper was rising again and he could feel his muscles tensing with every word. "There was obviously something wrong! She shuts down as soon as his name is mentioned! Do you think that is normal?" He took a step towards Nevan, lifting his chin in an open challenge. "Did you even care when she dropped out of your life for three years?"
"How dare-"
"How dare I?" Cullen spat. "No, Mr. Trevelyan, how dare you. You come in here, interrogating me about my life, my work, my intentions towards Nevena. Acting the concerned parent as if you actually care for her. I don't think you've ever really cared about her wellbeing, and certainly not more than your image and privilege. I care for her. A great deal."
"You're not a parent!" Nevan shouted. "Do not lecture me on whether I do or do not care for my own daughter!" All that divided him and Cullen was the couch, without it, Cullen was almost certain Nevan would have thrown a punch. "I care for her more than you could possibly understand! She is-"
Cullen saw Nevan's eyes widen. A look of realisation flashed across his face and the fight vanished from his expression and body.
Curious, Cullen shifted his weight. "She is... what?"
"Nothing," Nevan growled. "None of your concern." His stance stiffened and slowly he moved across the room to the door, his shoulders squared. "Nevena is immensely important to me. I want what is best for her," Nevan added reaching for the door handle. "I do not know if you are what is best for her."
Cullen snorted, "If that's your feeling towards her, then no one will ever be 'best' for her."
"Perhaps," Nevan nodded. "You may have a point, Mr. Rutherford. If so, what does that spell for you?"
As Nevan left closing the door behind him, Cullen slowly exhaled. His focus went to the sensation of air leaving his lungs and the way they emptied. It helped to relieve some of the tension from his body and he sank back down into the cushions of the couch.
He wondered how the day had turned so dramatically on its head from the enjoyment at the ice rink and the market to this. He realised his confused feelings towards Nevena were causing more trouble than he first thought. He needed to get his head together.
